


King of Lambs

by MoonMoonFace



Category: Borderlands (Video Games)
Genre: Alpha Timothy, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Anal Sex, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blood and Violence, Chemically Altered Alpha Jack, F/M, Forced adoption, Hurt/Comfort, Jack and Tim are twins, Knotting, M/M, Minor rhysothy, Mutilation, Omega Jack, Omega Rhys, Pureblood Society, Rhys as Jack's PA, Surrogacy, alpha nisha, minor Jack / Nisha, rhack - Freeform, slowburn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-29
Updated: 2019-06-08
Packaged: 2019-06-18 03:49:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 21,431
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15477012
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MoonMoonFace/pseuds/MoonMoonFace
Summary: Separated at the age of three for being born the wrong endotype, John finds himself on his twin brother’s doorstep in desperate need of aid. Together Timothy and John sign up for a life as Jack Lawrence and flee from those who would have Angel for themselves.12 years later, Jack is CEO of Hyperion, a ruthless ruler intent on erasing his omega status and his ‘breeder’ history.Timothy just wants to be a good Dad, and Rhys makes a plan to bang his boss.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys! Thanks for checking out my very first fic! I was not sure if I wanted to post it but in the end I thought why not and woo, here it is! It deals with some of my ABO headcanons and I hope you do not mind that it is not all by the book, haha. I am totally open for discussion because omegaverse seriously gives me life. 
> 
> Also I tagged it as Rhack but it is slowburn and Rhys gets introduced later, so stay tuned! :3
> 
> More tags to come as I write.

Wincing, Timothy delivered a long heavy sigh into the still night air. Another day of an ungrateful job alongside ungrateful people. He missed his old life sometimes. If he stayed, he would be riding around in a fancy car and pick up hot chicks. Or dudes. Or both. Lawrence sighed and and closed his eyes, feeling unrest in his groin - it has sure been a while. The TV was still buzzing away and provided the only light source in his small apartment. Frowning he scouted the living room before leaning forward to reach for his now very flat beer. He swore he heard something rattling away, or perhaps it was his own loud snores that had abruptly woken him up.

He immediately regretted taking a sip of the beer and gruffed as he placed it back down: few things were worse than flat booze. Leaning back into the comfy support of his sofa he closed his eyes again and considered falling asleep for the rest of the night right where he was.

A powerful blow hit his front door and Timothy was on his feet before a second hit could wake the whole complex. His long legs carried him to the door with a few hasty strides, squaring his shoulders and baring his teeth he readied himself to yell at the inconsiderate idiot who was on the other side.

Timothy yanked the door open, "What the hell do you want?"

Leaning against the door frame, in dark oversized clothes with a duffle bag in his arms was his twin.

"Hello Timmy," his brother delivered him a bloody red toothy grin.

It took Tim a moment to compose himself as he kept staring at his estranged sibling, who was breathing heavily and leaned heavier onto the door, all without breaking eye contact.

"...John?"

His brother did not wait to be invited in. The man he had not seen in almost two years passed the duffle bag into Timothy's arms and barged in, beelining to the couch. It did not escape Timothy's attention how slow and uneven his brother's movements were, the way he carefully bent his knees and sat down with the softest of sobs before stretching out.

Timothy hit the light switch and almost dropped the bag in alarm when he saw what John had trailed in with; blood. It was everywhere, it coated every step he took, it ran down his face and was smeared across his large coat.

"What the actual hell!? John!!" Timothy exclaimed, but his twin said nothing, staring at his brother with feverishly gleaming eyes.

Timothy let the duffle bag fall from his arms and held the bag by the handle.

"DON’T!" John yelled back at him, his eyes went wide, as panic stretched into every corner of his face. "Just.. Just...Bring the bag here," and he roughly pointed to a spot on the sofa.

Yet Timothy did not move, his gaze glued to his twin's face. They had been identical once, the two of them indistinguishable except the circumstance in which they were raised.

Not any more.

The terrible wound on John's face must have been a week or more old. It was already pulling tight across his face, the skin beginning to scar, but there was no mistaking the shape.

A ‘bond’ brand.

An omega that bonded would forever carry its Alpha's mark on the base of their neck. A disobedient breeder would get a mark seared into them: an infamous, vicious and depraved tactic used by older Alpha societies and families to punish wild Omegas that did not comply to their rules.

"Your face...How?" Timothy edged away from the door, the bag handle still in his hand as he looked his wounded brother up and down.

"The least of my problems, baby brother. Bring the damn bag over."

Timothy glanced at the sports bag in his hand and back at John. The initial shock of seeing his brother after years and many angry voicemails was slowly leaving his system. Timothy was regaining his senses, and there was one that was overpowering all the others.

John and the mysterious sports bag in his hand reeked of a smell he could not quite place. It was a bit similar to a bonded omega coming off heat, but that wasn’t quite right either.

Did John find a mate? Was he bonded? And if he was, why was he scarred? The thought itself was absurd. His brother always very vocally despised everything to do with his endotype and the very idea of being bonded with or by another Alpha. Timothy could not ignore the smell, it was overwhelming his senses. The scent was strangely endearing and familiar as if he'd known it his whole life, but he could not place it. His nostrils flared as he carefully lifted his hands. His brother saw it and propped himself up, worry and anger mixed on his face.

"The bag, Timmy," John growled. “NOW.”

Timothy shook his head, chasing away his primal instincts and obliged, slowly sidestepping around the mess John had dragged in on his carpet and placed the bag on the sofa. Though his brother did not reach for it, he kept staring at it with an absurd expression that Timothy could only describe as a mixture of contempt and worry.

This was too surreal: the last time they'd parted John was ranting at him, cursing their parents, his life and everything that made him who he was. Now here he was, covered in blood with a mysterious sports bag and a wound that meant nothing good.

"Do you need something for... you know, that?" Timothy gestured to John's mess of a face.

"Damage is already done."

There was not much room on the sofa, so Timothy carefully picked up the bag, sat down and rested it back on his lap. It was warm and the smell coming from inside it was getting to Timothy's head. Though John had wanted the bag, he made no move to take it away. He only glared down at Timothy's lap, jowls twitching from tension. His brother opened his mouth to say something, but all that came out was a small whine as his hand reached out for the bag and dropped listlessly to his side.

John was pale, and Timothy finally realised what bothered him so much, contents of the bag aside: the blood on him was fresh yet the wound on his face was old.

"What happened to you?"

"I fucked up, kiddo."

John gently leant back into the sofa and was drawing quick breaths now. There was a light sheen of sweat trickling down his neck and he looked like he was ready to faint. Carefully John slipped his shoulders out of the oversized coat, wincing and crying out as he struggled. Timothy instinctively leant in closer and helped John free himself from the coat. A gesture the twin did not appreciate, swatting the helping hand away. Soon after his brother was panting again, resting back into the sofa and slowly fiddling with a hem of his dirty shirt. John’s knuckles were torn and red, and Timothy did not miss the bruising around John’s wrists. His brother grabbed the base of his blood-soaked shirt and gingerly lifted it away, wordlessly offering Tim a good look.

John's stomach was swollen, tender and torn.

Timothy had never seen a caesarean before, but he had a pretty good idea that's what he was looking at. John's belly was shapeless, bulging somewhat over the belt and covered in stretch marks, a partially closed wound laid across him and some of the stitches were pulled out.

"John?"

He did not answer and only continued to stare at the duffle bag as if it was the centre of the universe.

Timothy's hands were shaking as he unzipped the bag and when he peered inside, he knew then why the unknown smell had worried him so much and yet felt so very familiar and welcoming.

There, in a tiny bundle of yellow knitted clothes, a newborn baby was sleeping.

"Say hello to your niece, Timmy."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow! First chapter done! I hope you liked it, as its pretty scary sharing my first fic. I know chapters are kinda short but I hope that’s oK.
> 
> Comments are very much appreciated :)
> 
>  
> 
> **You can find me on Tumblr at[MoonMoonFace](https://moonmoonface.tumblr.com/)**


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, 2nd chapter is here! Playing around with some ideas that I think are kinda new to the fandom, so hope you dig it. 
> 
> Please comment and review if you liked it! :)

"Don't sweat it, this is just a stopover for us."

This is the only thing John said as Timothy sat there, completely speechless, staring at the little baby wrapped up in an old yellow sweater, one he knew was John’s favorite. She was bundled with meticulous care and Lawrence found it difficult to imagine his brother succumbing to his omega instincts after fighting them for so long.

A curt knock rattled against the door and Timothy almost dropped the bag, whirling on John, who was curled up on the sofa now, shivering lightly. "Were you followed?"

"That'll be Nisha," John murmured in his palms, another droplet of sweat rolling down his temple, and along wet strands of hair that were plastered to his forehead.

The knock repeated again before Timothy could reach the door. He flicked the latch, swung the door open and was met by the most undoubtedly striking woman he had ever set eyes on.

"You weren't kidding, you DO have a twin," She purred and smiled slyly. “Ripe for the picking too. Been a while, right cowboy?”

The tall, dark-haired woman snickered as she saw his ears pink up and gave Timothy a full look over. Raising an eyebrow in quiet appreciation as she pressed a hand on his shoulder and guided him from the door so she could stride in. Her touch was like a jolt of electricity and Lawrence exhaled slowly, fully aware what the female Alpha was doing to him. 

It HAD been too fucking long.

"Nisha," John's voice dropped to a tone Timothy wasn't sure he had ever heard before. It was gentle, almost loving. Timothy decided it was the fever his brother was running; John was rarely nice to anyone.

"I could have sniffed you both out in a damn junk yard, John, you can't stay here. If I found you, it won't be long till they do too," She hastily paced to John's side, but not before peering into the duffle bag and uttering a single question.

"Girl or boy?"

"Girl," John remarked haphazardly as if the newborn was a bore.

Timothy was still left holding the door and could not move past Nisha's previous statement, her words echoing in his head. 

"Who are ‘they’? John?” He slammed the door shut and briskly walked back towards the couch. “What the fuck did you get yourself into?"

His brother ignored him and continued talking to the other woman. John never liked alphas. Hated omegas. Technically his brother hated everything and everyone, that much was clear from the last time they met. But with that Nisha woman he was acting differently. Above everything she seemed to be able to take the edge off him, make his twin more relaxed. A sting of jealousy ran through Timothy: it was HIS brother, his task to be that wall John could hide behind.

"Didya bring anything good for me?" John asked sweetly as the Alpha's purple nails brushed a loose strand from his face.

"Couldn't get much," she replied and reached into her pocket before shoving a handful of what looked like antibiotics and pain pills into John's waiting hand. His brother hissed as he clutched his stomach, leaned forward and reached for Timothy neglected beer. Tim watched on with a grimace as his brother skulled the pills and the lot of it down.

Timothy was always the more patient of the two, but that was long gone now. His misantropic brother somehow got knocked up, abused and thrown on the sidewalk and instead of explaining he was cooing with another Alpha. In his fucking house. A hot flash ran through Tim’s body, warning him to reel in his temper before the chairs started flying.

"John, the hell is all of this," He squeezed out, arms crossed on the chest.

"That's a baby Timmy, need I explain how you make one?" John grinned at him. “When a mommy and a daddy… Or, you know, a daddy and a daddy… or sometimes a big huge cold - ”

His brother's wit was not appreciated.

"Who is the other parent?" Timothy barked out, grinding his teeth together.

"Parents."

It took no more than a moment for Timothy to process what John meant. His hands curled at his sides are he stalked closer to his idiot of a sibling, towering above him and shaking from anger.

"No. You asshole, you fucking didn't. Don't you fucking tell me you agreed to that! After what our own parents did?! To you, of all people?!"

John and Timothy's origins were, in a sense, not conventional even though their conception was commonplace between Alpha couples. When their parents failed to conceive naturally, they turned to surrogacy.

Some poor desperate omega offered up their womb for the two future bright members of society. As was expected, two more little Alphas were brought into the world, and John’s and Tim’s parents were thrilled when they received their two perfect, healthy babies. Their parents paid the omega, and she or he was sent on their way. Their name never uttered; a mother or father lost to them.

Their parent's happiness would not last: at the tender age of three, when their endotypes presented themselves; Timothy an Alpha and John Omega, they were separated.

John was taken away and lost in the array of foster homes. His longest stay was on a border planet with a woman who ran a correctional centre. These were the things Timothy learned years after from the P.I. he had hired.

When Timothy was nine, he asked his mother if he had a brother once. Forever there had been some lost part of him yearning to come back, a memory of another boy who was at his side.

His own mother lied and told him no. There was no other, she said, it must have been an imaginary friend.

When he was eighteen, an older woman ran to him on the street and hugged him. She pleaded with him to remember her. She explained that she was his surrogate mother, carrying him and his brother John for whole nine months. She had no family of her own and she only wished to know if the twins were happy. As much as Timothy strained to recall her, he could not and his answer regarding ‘a brother’ brought her to tears, as she apologised and walked out of his life, never to appear again.

Timothy confronted his parents that day and, when the truth was exposed, he cut all ties with them. Legally changing his last name from Dewitt to Lawrence took a while and with what little sums he had left, Tim hired a private investigator, finally finding his long lost brother about a year later.

Everything his mother confessed to was true: the siblings endured years of separation and being forced apart, all because John did not conform to the pureblood Alpha society which their family came from.

John never revealed the details of his upbringing, but it was in the way he talked and walked, the way he presented himself that the bitter story unraveled. The things Timothy did not figure out himself, his investigator had provided: there was no place in his brother's heart for a child, let alone to carry one for someone else.

The lines around John's eyes narrowed, and his tone dropped to a menacing note.

"Don't act like you're fucking surprised. Not a lot of options for someone like me."

“Not a lot of -”Timothy exhaled, appalled by the implications. "I told you, over and over again: you could come live with me! it was a standing fucking invitation."

"I needed money for the surgery,"

"What surgery!?"

When John did not answer Timothy rounded on Nisha, "The hell is he talking about," though she remained tight-lipped.

"Who are the parents?!" he was yelling now, infuriated that neither his brother, nor his female Alpha buddy were giving him anything to go by.

"I didn't know, not until a week ago."

"John, fucking answer me. Who.Are.They?!" Timothy bared his teeth and towered over his brother, fist scruffing the dark hoodie on John’s chest as Nisha stepped closer, clear warning on her face.

"I don't know their damn first names, all I know is they're from the Lance line."

A cold pit formed in Timothy's stomach and it only grew with every passing moment. 

He needed a damn drink. Timothy said nothing to this revelation as he abruptly swung away and went to the kitchen for a fresh beer, taking his time and splashing some cold water in his face. When that was done and he regained some semblance of composure, he returned with three cans.

He shoved one into his twin's waiting hand and passed another to Nisha.

"You are the dumbest fuck of all dumb fucks to have ever fucked. You idiot!!!" Timothy took a deep breath and roared at John. He called his stupid brother the most vile of names, he degraded every inch of intellect he have ever had, he might have even used an omega - specific slur or two he was not proud of knowing.

It was only after he was done yelling that it occurred to him that the tiny bundle of life next to them had not stirred at all.

"What's wrong with her?" He asked carefully, finger stroking a soft pink cheek.

"Just gave the girl a little something to help her sleep."

It did not escape Lawrence how John kept avoiding calling the child his daughter.

"Fucking hell. Grade A parenting, asshole."

John chugged down his beer and shrugged his shoulders. 

"Look, I tried to get away. The moment I found out where she was heading I bolted. Then I got this lovely thing as my reward," John jabbed a finger at the burn on his face. "And then, because I was a disobedient little breeder, I was drugged, bound and gagged on top of a bed until I was ready to deliver, food catheter down my throat and all that fun stuff."

"Fuck, John,” Timothy shook his head, as he wearily looked at his brother. “How did you get away?"

John jerked his head at Nisha and the woman puckered her lips teasingly, tipping her hat.

"Thank you for saving my fool of a brother, I owe you one."

She returned him a coy smile and swiftly downed her beer. “I’ll cash in eventually, babe.”

There was a reason for Timothy's outburst, one word causing cause the primal fear to surge within him.

The Lance family was the oldest pureblood Alpha family on record. Rumour had it, there had not been a omega or beta in the family for half a millennia. Timothy did not want to consider the fate of those born who did not conform to their elite Alpha endotype. Worse of all they believed Alphas could be conditioned from birth. The children of that family had everything related to ‘omega’ stamped out of them the moment they drew breath. There were surgeries, there were hormonal corrections, there were ‘boarding’ schools.

John was right to flee. Though Lance would not have known the child's endotype for a few years what they would do if the girl defied their expectations...Timothy chugged down his beer, trying to wash the panic away. The consequences were not worth thinking of.

"Are you right to travel?" Nisha said, eyes glued to John's bloodstained stomach, as her hand hovered above it, indecisively. John lifted the shirt up once again and Nisha drew a long sigh, shaking her head.

"I've been better, but I'm ready when you are."

"When did you...you know, give birth?" Timothy asked, words he never thought he would say to his stupid brother.

"About twelve hours ago?" his twin looked at Nisha and she nodded, confirming his estimation.

Timothy cursed again. "Fucking hell John, the fuck were you thinking? You're lucky half your damn insides haven't fallen out."

"I was raised tougher than you, princess." There was an underlying threat in John's voice. The moment they have learned about each other’s existence, there was always an unresolved bitterness regarding the different paths their lives took.

"Where will you go?"

"Anywhere Lance can't reach her," Jack glanced at the bundle still sleeping in the duffle bag.

Timothy noted it was the first time his brother had actually regarded the child. John had perpetually resented his endotype, tried to tear apart everything that made him omega. Timothy wouldn't put it past him to reject the kid based on the stereotype that dictated he was meant to be the perfect engaged parent. 

Timothy pressed his lips together: despite it all, John's attitude to the baby was highly suspicious and unusually cold, even for him. By all accounts, whether he wanted or not, John had to be surging with postpartum hormones by now, not allowing anyone to even look at his pup.

"We need to fix you up first," Nisha broke up Timothy's thoughts. "Handsome," she gazed at him with large amber eyes, "you got a med box around here?"

"I'll show you." Timothy down the rest of his beer and was keen to get a second. John shook his empty can indicating he was after another but Timothy wasn't going to indulge him. “You are a parent, start acting like one.”

He led Nisha to the small kitchenette, and the moment he was out of John’s earshot he grabbed her by the arm and shoved her in the corner. She did not appreciate that, and a moment later her cutting nails dug into his bicep.

"Watch it, little brother."

A surge of adrenaline ran through them both, he could sense it. A common occurrence when two stressed up alphas ended together in a small space. 

"Enough," he snarled back at her with equal hostility. "Something isn't right. What did Lance do to him?"

Her eyes held a fire behind them that yielded no warmth. Nisha sneered at him, and for a moment he did not think she'd answer. The pause was too long and the voice that left her had a sombre note to it, something Timothy not knowing her at all, took as a rare thing.

"They put him on maternal suppressants."

Timothy cursed, before looking over his shoulder to spare a glance at his wounded brother. That explained a lot. It explained everything, really. To avoid any post - natal attachments surrogate omegas were pumped with drugs. To Lance’s misfortune John was pigheaded enough to, even without the hormones, defy their will and save the child from the fate worse than death. 

"And the brand?"

"He's told me nothing. Only that Lance did that after he tried to escape," she huffed out bitterly. "Damn savages. No better than bandits really."

Timothy agreed. The brand was designed to mock a bond mark, a large curve of one's teeth across the face. Every so often a case of an omega found dumped in an alley bore the mark. Either they had brought 'shame' on their family, were unable to conceive of fled the role as a breeder.

John was an unmated, non bonded, branded omega with a child. Every Alpha in the precinct would be eager to claim the kid and the law would be own their side.

"Ok...So is he safe here? Both of them? Do you really think his trail is that easy to pick up?"

"I don't know about you, but I could smell him and the pup from half a block away."

Timothy groaned at Nisha's answer. No matter, for now, they had got away, they had time to move and plan their next escape. 

"Med kit is on top of the fridge." He pointed to it and waited for her to grab it before he snapped up another beer for himself. He offered her one, and she shook her head.

"Should probably keep my hands steady for this part."

They returned to John on the sofa, who had made no move to check on his daughter. He scolded them both when they returned without a drink for him. Timothy hissed back something about feeding parents should not be allowed alcohol. His twin gave him a stink eye and said that there was no way he was feeding THAT the natural way.

Nisha settled down on the sofa and John lifted his shirt the third time. He clenched his jaw tight and hissed as the needled hooked under the skin and began to stitch him back up. It wasn't intimacy Timothy sensed, but there was an unspoken closeness between them. He wondered about the history between the two of them as Nisha lingered close and stitched his brother back up.

A childhood friend? An old lover?

"Wilhelm is getting you new papers, then we're jumping planet," Nisha whispered to John.

Timothy glared down at the lot of them, the plan would never work. Nisha and John did not fit the 'part'; Alpha female and male omega were not able to conceive children and were not a common couple. Even if John fled on his own as a single omega with a child he would be stopped and questioned.

"You're not claimed and you have a damn child. You won't get five feet through a spaceport without someone tearing her from your arms."

"Thanks, Timmy, that’s insightful." His brothers sarcasm was cold and unneeded.

"There's another way," Timothy whispered, more to himself than to the others. His eyes gazed down to the duffle bag and on the flushed pink face amongst the covers. Her tiny hands were bundled in front of her, and she softly stirred.

"I’ll take the baby," before John could retort Timothy nodded at Nisha, "with her. We're an Alpha couple, and this is our newborn. Nobody would ask questions."

"No freaking way," John snapped back, and that was the first time he had made an effort to stay with his daughter. His next words clearly showed that Timothy’s hope was short lived. "You're not leaving me here for Lance to bag me like a prized hog and breed me again."

Timothy momentarily hid his face in own hands, his brother’s persistent lack of empathy and abundance of egocentrism was tiresome and mildly disturbing

"Ok, I have another idea."

"All ears cupcake." John drawled. The medication finally started working as his eyes became heavy-lidded and tired.

"You become me... Or, rather, we become one and the same. Doesn't need to be Timothy Lawrence, we can share whatever name you want, but we flee as the same person, with Nisha as our mate and baby - um -" Timothy paused, did the child even have a name? He would not leave it past his brother to call his kid Spawn or Buzzkill. 

"Angel," Jack said quietly and Tim gave him a thoughtful stare. It was so unlike John to choose something so ephemeral and so… fitting.

"With Angel. We have to leave, tomorrow, at worst. It has to be now or never, Lance has the best of the best after you two."

John screwed his face up and contemplated his somewhat limited set of options before he rested a hand close to the duffle bag and looked between them all.

"Ok. Let’s do it."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first ABO fic, so um yeah! hope you dig the themes I'm gonna explore. Please comment if you read and enjoyed it :D
> 
>  
> 
> **You can find me on Tumblr at[MoonMoonFace](https://moonmoonface.tumblr.com/)**


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mostly Tim's and Jack's first meeting and some 'motherhood' issues Jack refuses to face.

**Then**

He took his wallet out and looked at the photo the P.I. had provided. It captured John as he strode down some dismal sidewalk, cigarette in one hand and phone pressed to the ear. It was not the best quality but it was all the PI could provide before John spotted him. Not that it mattered, according to the guy John was Timothy’s splitting image. Taking another sip of his beer, Tim mused how things were going to play out. Would they hug? Or maybe shake hands, too uncomfortable with each other? Would there be tears or relief? 

How  _ do _ you greet the twin you had not seen in over 15 years?

After squeezing the information out of his mother, Timothy had carried the bitter knowledge that somewhere out there lived his identical brother. Torn away from his side at the mere age of three, all because his parents could not bear the shame of an omega offspring diluting their perfect bloodline.

Timothy may have known of his twin for the last year, but to John Tim's existence was only revealed two weeks ago via a challenging conversation through the PI. The exchange had left Timothy with an extensive bill from fixing the beta’s nose after John proceeded to smash it into a wall.

Maybe a cautious handshake will do.

"S’up." A hooded figure closed in on his side and Timothy hastily swallowed down his beer to look up at the man hovering above him.

It was like looking directly in a mirror, albeit with terrible facial hair and more cheap grease in his locks, John looked every part like Timothy. His brother sported an oversized grey tee with vague yellow geometric pattern, black quilted bomber jacket and a glimmering stud piercing in his right ear. It was quite comical and nigh impossible to imagine himself bearing that look. His parents would kick Timothy out the door if he ever came home dressed like that.

Not that he was ever planning on returning.

"Well this is freakin’ weird," his twin cocked a brow and looked him up and down.

"Yeah," it was all Timothy could mumble out while feverishly cycling through his options.

Hand shake? Hug? Handshake? Or - 

John surprised him, for despite what first impressions Timothy had, the other man roughly pulled Timothy off his stool and swung his arm around him with a chuckle. Timothy stopped hesitating and drew his twin into a tight gripped hug. They probably stayed like that longer than they needed to and when Timothy pulled away John beamed back at him.

"You look  _ just _ like me, how cool is that? "

"Hmmm, maybe it's  _ you _ who looks like me."

"Nah, I'm definitely the older one," John jeered back and cockily popped the collar of his coat, before quickly slipping in his order for a pint; the same as Timothy's.

The evening flew by, and the two of them were on their third or fourth round before the dinner rush even finished. There was so much to discuss, to ask and tell. Timothy wanted to know everything but his brother was rather secretive only dropping hints here and there. The few clues that John let slip through gave Tim a reason to pause: his own life was anything but a sorry tale.

Raised in the most elite district, sent to an all-male top tier Alpha boarding school; the kind only good connections and plenty of money can get you, Timothy's life was brought to him on a silver crystal lined fucking platter.

John didn't even finish high school.

At first, Timothy dismissed his poor education as a cause of ghastly upbringing: never adopted John was jumping from foster home to foster home until settling down with someone who his brother would not discuss any further besides calling the woman ‘Granny’. It did not escape his attention how John’s eyes darted away as he told Tim her name and how his fingers twitched around the glass.

What made Timothy put his beer down and listen intently was John's reason for leaving high school: the man was bored out of his skull. Apparently, his twin was completing 12th-grade programming modules and high theory calculus before he finished the 8th grade.

Timothy only just passed math, thanks to a tireless tutor and some very well - placed bribes.

His brother spent the next few years waiting till he was ready to make the jump to university. He already had a dozen offers to choose from, though none from the Alpha Leagues. Timothy would have to rely on his parent's contacts to get him into any of the schools John listed off.

When he naively asked what was holding him back, John scoffed and said 'money'.

"You could...I dunno... live with me?” Tim blurted out suddenly. “If you're ok with that?'

John skulled the last of his beer before eyeing him carefully. 

"I'm not staying in some elite dog house."

Timothy huffed, "it's not, I'm based in Cronus district, few Alpha elites there," He paused and traced condense on his glass. “I… don’t talk to my parents anymore.”

"Still...Better than a border planet, better than fucking Granny."

John had him here. He had never left Tantalus save family vacations on Aquator. Their wretched parents had made sure his brother was sent as far away as possible, to some dirt and waste covered hole called Pandora, the other side of the star system.

The silence had suddenly become bitter and Timothy desperately tried to find something else to lighten the mood but every thought that came to mind only reinforced the differences in their lives. 

Finally giving up Timothy uttered, "Bathroom," and slid off the stool. Some water on his face to ease the tension seemed like a good idea.

So far he had managed to go the whole night without bringing up John's endotype. When the PI had mentioned it to his brother, it had resulted in his face being broken. John radiated the energy of an Alpha, that much was evident from the moment they sat down but there was no way denying that smell. That specific post-heat scent coming off him. Timothy did not know what it smelled to others for there were no Alpha’s at the bar but to him it was familiar, almost like himself when he was about to go in a rut but softer, more comforting.

When he returned, John was gone.

It should not have hurt him so much. Realistically the two of them had nothing in common, save the way in which they styled their hair.

It should not hurt nor surprise him that his brother left without a word, though, as Timothy approached the bar he noticed there was a fresh new pint for himself and another for John. He looked around and noticed John’s bicycle keys laying on the table.

"Your brother went out back, I don't want none of that going on in here, so don't bring him back in until he's done." The bartender, a beta, grunted at him with a bored face as Timothy turned around.

"Done?"

"Yeah, left with another Alpha, say two mins ago." The man nodded in the direction once again and returned to cleaning the glasses.

_ Fuck. _

He had not known John for more than a few hours but he had gathered enough to know that his brother was the troublemaking kind.

Timothy quickly waded through chairs and discarded junk to squeeze down the narrow alley that he knew led to an unused courtyard. A favourite spot for those who just could not wait to take it home.

Timothy paused: his brother's business was his own, though some primal more profound feeling told him this was a situation that needed direct intervention. As he approached the gate to the courtyard a husky and far deeper voice than that of either John or Tim's crept through the wooden slates.

"Unclaimed and just off your heat? How did a pretty thing like you last?"

Timothy felt like he wanted to be sick. Whether you were an elite or an Alpha from the damn gutter, there was no tact or decency among his endotype. People did as they pleased, preying on the weak without a single repercussion excusing their terrible behaviour with the ‘my nature made me do it’.

"Come on big guy, take it out and show me what you've got packing in there," His brother's voice cooed back with a sickeningly sweet tune that made Tim skew his face in disdain.

"Just you behave first and face the wall," The other voice lost it's lustful note and became an order.

"Not until I see what I'm getting first. I am not easily impressed."

"Omega cunt spread those slut legs of yours, or you'll sooner be chewing the dirt off this wall." the other Alpha barked irritably, he was obviously not used to his potential lays running their mouth like that.

When the scuffle started Timothy did not wait and the latch to the gate was thrown off.

The other Alpha was a burly man, though not as tall as John or Timothy, he certainly had the mass on them both. His brother's face was forcefully scrapped against the brick wall, while the Alpha's hand rummaging somewhere past the waistband of his jeans.

All Timothy had was the small element of surprise and he tackled the man at the waist, managing to land him against a broken lopsided table. 

It was stupid to think he could go against that bull of a man: not a moment later an elbow was jabbed into the centre of his spine and Timothy was promptly kicked off, whining in discomfort. Winded he grasped at his chest and groped against the wall to steady himself. The other Alpha was too strong for hand to hand, and Timothy didn't really have the experience for that. He needed a weapon, anything would do.

He briefly wondered if his twin did and if that was the actual reason he was out here in the first place. 

Timothy had luck on his side and finally was able to dislodge a loose wooden slat. Armed, he lowered his stance and readied himself for the next attack.

"Two of you? Well, that's a treat worth waiting for," the other man rasped, his words followed by a loud gross sniff. His eyes narrowed as he glared Timothy up and down.

"Or maybe not. Run along now, little pup," the other Alpha hissed angrily, realising Timothy was not another Omega for him to so easily prey on.

John had now pulled himself up, and away from the wall, wiping a hand across his face and smearing the blood from his cut lip everywhere. His twin looked furious and ready to tear the other Alpha apart.

"Piss off, " Timothy snapped and bared his oversized canines: a trait his family's long history of Alpha breeding had blessed him with.

He waited for the man to charge, though it did not come as John had finally regained his composure and drove his foot down into the man's knee, sending him screaming to the ground. Timothy rushed forward and, with one clean hit, he knocked the man out. The broken wooden slat was quickly tossed aside and, still breathing heavily, he stepped towards his twin.

John was fumbling with his belt and securing it back in place, eyes downcast on the man at his feet.

"The hell was I about to walk into?"

When his brother did not answer him, Timothy snapped again and towered in on him.

"John. The fuck were you about to do?"

“Like, what is it to you?!” John retorted back, finally done with his jeans, hands on hips as his eyes angrily drilled holes in Timothy’s face.

“This asshole was  _ forcing _ himself onto you!“

“Mhmm, sure, whatever your little Alpha senses are telling you. I had it under fucking control!” John tilted his head to the side and attempted towering over him. A pointless endeavour as they were the same height. Though with Timothy being Alpha, he would always have more mass and presence and, after only knowing his brother for a few hours, he knew his twin would eternally resent that fact.

Typical,” Timothy spat out before adjusting his coat. After momentary consideration he resigned there was no saving this night, whatever John's intentions were, they were best left unspoken.

"You got something to say?!"John snapped provocatively behind his back.

Timothy ignored his twin and prepared to leave, this move only further enraging his Omega brother. Maybe it was his post - heat hormones, or perhaps he was just like this, Timothy did not know and was already beginning to not care.

"I was going to gift this world with one less braindead Alpha," his brother rasped behind his back. “Get him hot and ready and cut his fucking knot off. You  _ had _ to be the hero,  _ Timmy _ .”

That stopped Timothy's departure. He turned around, squaring his shoulders and staring down at his brother.

"Not a brilliant plan when you're just coming off heat, I can still smell it  _ all _ over you, and so do others," Timothy scoffed. Honestly, what was the idiot thinking? "You're bloody lucky the guy didn't tear you a new hole just to rut into, fuckhead!"

"What do you even know of the outside, leading a cushioned life surrounded by preppy Alphas your whole damn life?!" John snarled, fists clenching sporadically.

"At least I don't froth at the mouth for someone to jump me in an alley," Timothy snapped back. The P.I had dug up a bit on his brother. He had a bloodlust for Alphas and was all too happy to bait a few only to cut them up and run.

It was foolish of Timothy to imagine their lives ever working together. Years on a border planet had obviously left his brother cold and broken.

The blow came faster than Timothy could dodge, blood sprayed across the dark bricks, and Timothy spat out a mouthful as he cursed his brother's immature antics. 

"Fucking Alphas, you think you rule the world."

They kind of did. 

Only last week the political gossip heated up, a smear campaign was running against an up and rising Omega. Headlines dragging her through the mud, asking how she could perform her duties during her heats? How she could ignore her responsibilities to her kids?

If John got this riled up post - heat how could he not see the bigger picture?

Despite what reservations Timothy had for his brother he said nothing and only straightened back up. He ignored every fibre screaming at him to fight back, to not to let some Omega squirm beat into him, but it was not worth staining his clothes with blood.

Timothy did not bother with any parting words and left his twin alone with the unconscious Alpha in the courtyard.

  
  
**Now**

The crying woke him up.

Doped up on painkillers and sleeping aid it took a moment for John to open his eyes and focus. Looking around the unfamiliar darkness, he groaned and held his stitched together abdomen in discomfort. 

What a fucking mess. 

Despite John's current situation of pain and worry, they at least had the worst of it all behind them.

Their escape from Tantalus to Eden-5 was smoother than expected. He left on Timothy's old passport as 'Timothy Dewitt', and soon after Nisha and Timothy followed with baby Angel. Now the four of them were shackled up in some dingy hotel, with just the possessions they could carry and the clothes on their backs.

No one would question an Alpha from the Dewitt family, and no one did. It was surreal, the differences in the way he was treated. He wore Timothy clothes to hide his scent and took a mix of cheap pheromone drugs and hormonal suppressants to conceal away the rest. The drugs toyed with his head but overall the feeling was intoxicating. 

John had felt on top of the world. Until now.

The wailing continued and it eventually seeped to his core, tugging on him and forcing John on his feet and towards the duffle bag turned crib.

“What do you want?!” He barked at the tiny human, who stopped screeching for a second and looked up at him with big blue eyes swimming with tears. 

She sniffed and then proceeded to cry, her screams literally curled a tight and painful knot in his chest. Everything was demanding for him to pick up the baby. It probably needed the bottle, maybe diaper change. It probably wanted skin on skin contact, his treacherous addled mind told him.

' _ A good Omega cares.' _

Granny’s words whispered in his mind a second before a cane landed on his back.

_ 'Obeys.' _

Another hit.

_ 'Breeds for its Alpha.' _

A blow to the face.

_ 'Are you a good future breeder, Johnny? _ '

“N - No!” He whined into the darkness of the room, arms hugging himself to protect from the terrible words and the lashes that followed.

“I don’t want you. I don’t fucking want this! STOP FUCKING CRYING!” The last phrase came out close to a shriek, John’s hands clutching at his sides, anything not to reach out for the child.

His hands scratched at his bare back, tugging on the old scarred grooves left by the cane. If he did what she told him if he was good, would the pain stop? The nausea? The shakes? He could not feed the fucking pup even if he wanted to, hormonal suppressants Lance pumped him with might have started leaving his system but they did their damage. And he would never - he would NEVER - 

The floorboards creaked and the door was opened gingerly, his twin flicking on the switch.

“John?”

He must have been a pretty picture: curled up in a foetal position, one hand clutching the handle of the duffle bag, unable to move away or proceed. It did not escape his eyes that Timothy was littered with love bites and he rolled his eyes. John figured Nisha would be all over that: after all, his brother was just as good looking and a perfect Alpha to boot and Nisha had a REAL taste for her own kind.

“Are you going to do anything about Angel? She needs you.”

“Well fuck that, we all need something. Life's a bitch,” John hissed from the floor as he grabbed the shirt from the bed and pulled it over his head. It was tight at the abdomen, accentuating his pointlessly ruined figure: hope for cash replaced by wounding up piss poor on the streets with a child he could not care for.

“Come here, lil’ kitten,” he heard Tim whisper softly and John lifted his face up to see his brother carefully picking up the bundled up kid. Her rosy cheek was pressed to his bare chest and she hiccupped, her wails becoming just small murmurs.

“Put her down!” John snarled as a sting of jealousy ran through him like a tight wound arrow. “She’s not yours. I -  _ I _ made her!”

“Oh, are you suddenly ready to be a father?”

"Yeah as fucking _ if _ ,” every word was like a hiss leaving his mouth. “Just don’t... don’t touch her.”

“Will you handle her, then?”

John did not reply. He was feeling sick and his foggy mind, suffering pain and withdrawals was making him yell out things he neither wanted others to know, nor admit them to himself. Dull pain coiled in his stomach and with a whine John sat down on the bed, hand around his abdomen and the other raking at his scalp.

“Tim,” there was not a single trace of mockery in his voice, just overexertion. “Timmy, please help, this is too much. Please…”

The words poured out so readily it was disgusting,  _ he _ was disgusting. John stopped begging a long time ago when he realized it got him nowhere and that people still hurt him if he submitted. Tim gently placed Angel in her makeshift crib and crouched in front of him. His fucking goody-two-shoes brother, who was just fucked raw by his best friend and reeking of her, was about to give him a pep talk. The picture was absurd, and John wearily grinned at the thought.

“We’ll make through this,” Tim said simply, and John stared at him, swallowing his sarcastic reaction. His brother's self-confidence was calming him down.

"I don't want to be this." John finally admitted. "My whole life everyone has fucking forced me into a role I did not fit into."

Tim said nothing. 

"And when I finally do what's expected of me, I get a fucking brand on my face, a torn up stomach and nothing else to show for it," he screwed up his face and spat out the last words, 

"You...We have Angel," Tim spoke softly, and it was strange hearing such a delicate note in his own voice. 

Tim gradually returned to John’s daughter, he cooed to her again as he picked her up and sat on the bed beside John. She was a tiny thing, and her face was still red and tear stained from her previous outburst.

"Hold her while I go warm up a bottle."

John hesitated, he did not want to hold her, he wanted nothing to do with the small human in his brother's arms. Yet, Tim's patience was stronger than his, his twin sat beside him until John resigned and gradually took the infant from his arms. 

Angel stirred from the lack of contact as John held her half an arm's length in front of him. His mind was screaming at him to bring her in close, but John loved to live in spite: only when she became restless and appeared ready to start crying again did he pull her in letting her curl against his chest.

When Tim returned with the bottle, he made no effort to take her from his arms. He held it out and waited for John to accept it and feed her. 

There was a smug sense of victory radiating from his brother as he took the bottle and tilted it back for Angel to suckle. Her eyes remained closed as she drank down the warm formula. Tim signed his good nights and left the room to return to Nisha’s eager arms, leaving John together with Angel.


	4. Chapter 4

Timothy tossed two scutched up notes bearing the phone numbers of strangers whose faces he did not even remember onto the kitchen bench.

"How many did you get today?"

"Five," said Nisha, before sipping her beer.

Nisha had the right idea and Timothy chuckled as he kicked back the fridge door and sought out a drink for himself. His fingers brushed along the literal battery of beers. He and Nisha had different tastes and John just freeloaded on anything he saw.

"Ever been this popular with the O’s?"

"No, not with this kind of… crowd. That's just not my style."

Timothy hummed, he suspected as much. He had known this woman for about a month now and already the idea of her with a pup in one arm, and running around after another in some kind of domestic setting was absurd.

Nisha pulled in cash by whatever means necessary and Timothy was on baby duty when his hot-headed brother did not bother to rise out of bed. Timothy tried to cut John some slack: the hormonal recovery was a long process and he never could sit still, disturbing the healing wound and prolonging his own discomfort.

Despite of it, likely because of their situation it did not stop every omega in the area from pawing all over them. It started at the hotel and followed them to their new apartment complex. Two Alphas with the scent of a newborn, unmated and not claimed were irresistible to every single Omega. Eager at the idea of an Alpha so invested in their own pup, Omegas on the block herded themselves like sheep to their apartment.

Timothy eyed the phone numbers: neither of the Omegas who had hastily passed them to him were pleasing to the eye. Both desperate and likely only looking for protection. He snatched them up, pursing lips together in disdain and tossed them into the bin.

When his wayward brother finally emerged from bed, Timothy checked his watch and cursed loudly. It was 11:30am, and he had already fed Angel, gone to the gym, done a food run, booked Angel an appointment with a pediatrician, fed her again and was starting to prepare lunch.

"Good, you're awake. A bottle is already warm for her feeding," Tim called aloofly to his brother. 

Angel had been becoming increasingly restless, no matter how many bottles Timothy presented to her, she would not finish them. And when she did, it was the only time she would stop screaming. Nisha was already talking about finding another place to stay, and though Timothy did not want her to leave, he could not blame her.

The three of them had scarcely had any rest with Angel's persistent crying.

Timothy had organised the doctor's appointment that morning and he secretly hoped there was something wrong, something to fix. She could not really scream this much for nothing?

Timothy sighed and asked his brother again to fetch the bottle and John, as usual, ignored him and sulked towards the kettle and instant coffee.

"John?" Timothy reiterated his name with a sharper tone. "Angel needs feeding, and I need to get ready for work."

"Right, right, I heard you," he groaned as he poured the hot brew together.

Timothy only cursed under his breath and left the kitchen. Making his way to his room, he placed the beer on the dresser and stripped his sweat-soaked gym shirt. Stepping aside to the toss the shirt to the ground Timothy spied two large amber eyes behind him.

"Fucking hell!" Timothy snapped, and his heart jolted up his throat. He did not hear her creep at all.

Nisha was more of an Alpha Elite than society would give her credit for. A perfect predator, long sharp canines to match and gorgeous body to complete the picture. Timothy watched in the mirror as she sauntered slowly behind him, toned arms snaking their way around him and up his chest, long purple nails idly playing with the soft dusting of hairs on his chest.

Timothy had a few minor flings with Alphas before but Omegas were always the easier catch. His last name had drawn them in left, right and centre and he did not even have to work for it. Though his parents had both been Alphas and it was expected of him to mate with another Alpha too, Timothy had found the concept intimidating.

There were rules to be followed which had been grounded into him since he first reached puberty, and his canines had developed their endorphin secretions, or more commonly known as his 'Alpha mark.'

You do not bite another unless you intend to make a bond and so when Nisha had first tried to sink her teeth into Timothy, he'd all but yelled and jumped out of bed.

Her nose pressed into the back of his neck, as her lips caught the tip of his ear before she gently pressed her teeth into the sensitive skin.

"Nisha, I've got work, can't pay the-" Timothy was immediately cut off with a heavy sigh as her hands buried into his flesh. Running feverishly down his chest and abdomen before following the curve and dip of his hips.

Nisha was not one for much foreplay, it was always straight to business, and Timothy was learning to lap it up. Her nimble fingers were always able to turn him hot and heavy in a matter of seconds.

He swung around and cupped her face pressing a heated kiss to her lips. All considerations about work were out the door. A few steps forwards were all that was needed to throw her onto the bed, before he shimmied out of his jeans. 

Nisha leant up, resting her weight on her elbows, head lowered and eyes ablaze. Timothy knew better than to give her a 'slow show' and so once he was free from his pants he landed on the covers and straddled her waist. Grinding his already eager erection into her as he leaned over and bestowed on her another aggressive kiss. Said aggression only fueled Nisha's lust and soon she was dragging her teeth across his flesh. 

Timothy pressed a hand to her chest and sat back up.

"I'm not sure....Nish, we talked about it. Don’t think I’m ready."

"Sweety, don’t sound like a nun," she purred in response. “Sure you are.”

"You want...to bond me?"

The bark of laughter from Nisha was loud and threatening, causing Timothy to shrink and the blood to his dick to all but stop, deflating both his ego and his erection. 

"Oh, babe! What on earth did they teach you in those pristine white halls you called a school?"

"Um, ah...I mean. Like, I know how it works."

Timothy did not. 

The 'marking' between Alphas was a concept forbidden to him unless they were a mated pair. And as Timothy studied Nisha's provocative and wild expression, it seemed she did not think that was the case.

"It will only make you feel good."

Timothy worried his lip, and the act caused Nisha's tone to drop to a more inviting sound. "I promise, it won't do anything else. Alphas can't bond like the rest."

"I know that," Timothy scoffed defiantly but he still looked a bit unsure and meek.

He did not know what would happen when Nisha would push her bonding endorphin into him, and the same for when he did it back to her. Would he be marked as hers? Was it temporary? 

He had to admit, though his sexual experiences were not short, his exploration in the matter was limited as were his options back in the day. To be seen with anyone rather than an Alpha his parents approved of was as great of shame as a 'bond' brand. None of the Alphas Tim dated he slept with. He never dated an Omega either, it would cause his parents a heart attack but he slept with plenty of those.

Timothy knew Mr and Mrs Dewitt would not approve of the wild, bandit born woman in his bed. Alpha aside, Nisha was older, another concept considered foreign and disgusting by his birth parents. 

Timothy's anxious thoughts must have crept onto his face as Nisha's grip on his hips relaxed and her smile became coy.

"Come here, I promise not to bite," she cooed with a wink.

That was a blatant lie but Timothy's nerves started to subside as her hands found their way around his cock and began to work him back to its full state.

Timothy closed his eyes and leaned back, slowly rocking into her and into the comfort. When he was fully erect, and ready again, she dug her free hand into his hip and brought them together again. She nibbled on his lips, kisses turning harsher with every stroke she ran up his length, and with a pant that sounded almost desperate coming from the female Alpha, she asked him to bite her.

Timothy took a sharp breath, closing his eyes he distracted himself by attempting to undo the belt at her waist. She slapped his hand away.

"Nah hah," she taunted, "you want that, you need to taste me first, chicken."

That was all the encouragement and taunting he needed. 

Timothy bared his teeth and Nisha's eyes grew wide, pupils alive and dark as she drew her neck to the side exposing her throat. He leaned in and dug down deep, biting until he broke the skin and tasted blood. Grinding his canines into her, Timothy felt a strange relief leave his jaw, followed by a sharp cry of pleasure and Nisha digging both her hands into the back of his head pressing him down harder. 

They only lingered there a while longer before her hands shot down between them, and she removed her belt and lowered her jeans and lacy cut-off-shorts to her thighs.

Timothy didn't need a second invitation, with his own briefs just lowered to his knees and his dick in hand he lowered himself between her legs. He found her entrance wet and waiting and as he entered that warmth and buried his face into her chest he slowly started to thrust into her.

His pleasure was cut short when Nisha returned the favour by forcing her teeth into his wrist and drawing blood. Timothy yelped in surprise and tugged away but she did not let up. He was sure his dick was going to go soft between them but that was not the response he received.

Where he had once felt pain was now pulsing with a feverish warmth, that spread up his arm and to his neck. The woman under him swayed and Timothy felt his head go heavy and his cock harder than ever.

"That's it," Nisha smiled with blood painted across her lips red.”You feel it?”

Timothy had not known what to expect, but pure bliss was not one of the feelings. Every worry was wiped from his mind, leaving pleasurable inviting void.

He could have easily ditched work and spent the entire afternoon and long into the evening inside the woman under him, or even, if she wanted, let her inside of him. But the door bursting open and a jarring voice shattered that plan; just like all the mirrors John had broken in their new house.

"What the HELL!?" Jack yelled at them from the end of the bed, " Again!? Really??!"

"JOHN! Get the FUCK out."

Nisha burst out laughing and made no attempt to stop her movements under him, jolting her hips up and causing a choking sound to escape Tim's lips. Caught between pleasure and rage at seeing his brother interrupt their 'session’, Timothy rested on his elbows allowing Nisha to do her thing, all the white eying his insufferable dick of a brother through a long sweaty mass of own hair.

John paid Timothy's words no mind and only continued to yell at him, arms crossed and small piece of paper in hand.

"Why does Angel have a pediatrician appointment?!"

"Fucking hell, John, get the fuck out!" Timothy began to move off Nisha, and the other Alpha moaned in displeasure at the loss of contact, repeating Timothy's curses at John.

"Ahhh no, fuck, Nisha, did you bite him?" John growled pointing an accusing finger at her and then up to Timothy's face.

"It's none of your business!" Tim snarled as he finally made it off the bed, swaying slightly.

"Your eyes are totally blown out and you're both covered in blood. And get your fucking alpha dick out of my face!”

Timothy groaned louder into his palms obliging and pulling his briefs upwards. "Why are you HERE John!?"

"Angel!" his brother snapped again, "When did you book her into to see the doctors!?"

"This morning!" 

"WHY?!"

"Because she's fucking losing weight, she won't stop crying and refusing the bottle! She needs to see a professional!"

"I'm cancelling it, she's fine. She doesn't need some ass-hat assessing her."

"Fucking hell, whatever! Let your daughter get sick you absolute assclown!" Tim release a growl and pushed Jack towards the door.

The door was slammed shut again, and Timothy hissed and cursed into his hands, unable to calm down. Before Nisha could bring him back to bed, he grabbed a clean shirt and made for the door.

Work was one of the few places he could be himself and not have to be a surrogate parent to his niece and a babysitter to his insolent dumb brother. He could only hope John would come to his senses and see to his daughter and her well being; physical and mental.

* * *

He did not know babies could cry that much. All three of them were exhausted. Nisha slipped out, unwilling to deal with the screaming, John was feeling unwell again, doped up on sleeping aid to avoid dealing with hormonal withdrawals and leaving Timothy the only one able to take care of the child. She cried and cried, changing colours from blue to red and back and no matter what Tim tried Angel would only calm down momentarily, just to start yelling again when the activity was over.

“What do you need, fucking hell what is it?” he was mumbling in a haze as he walked up and down their small apartment hall, trying to make Angel burp from the bottle she only just suckled. He would do anything to calm her down, he felt utterly exhausted.

There was something wrong, it gnawed at the back of his mind. Every time she cried Timothy felt a jolt of discomfort and not from her screams but from something he could not place or find a word for.

She needed to go to the doctor and his stupid brother would not let her. Timothy was not Angel's father, and he could not force her to see someone against her genuine parent's wishes, but it was getting to the point where his niece's wellbeing was above and beyond his care for his brother.

Timothy concluded he was taking her to the hospital tomorrow, with or without John's consent. 

As if in response to his desperate plea the child murmured softly and pressed into the crook of his neck as if seeking comfort. Her tiny hands bunched up around his collar and tugged at his shirt.

It had happened in a spur of a moment; a hot flash ran through his body as Timothy stopped in his tracks and slowly as if in a dream, he grazed his chin over her tiny shoulders. She cooed inaudibly and for once her crying stilled. The strange and awfully intimate motion made Timothy sway on the spot before little Angel released a satisfied huff and nestled on his chest, visibly relaxed.

When he brought her to the crib, he was too run down to think and question, so he tucked the little girl in and collapsed on the sofa. Seconds later he was falling into blissful nothingness, sleep taking him away, until someone rudely shook him by the shoulder.

“What did you do?!”

Tim opened his eyes, dazed and confused. Above and staring down at him was his brother’s face contorted with fury. John was livid; he was breathing heavily, teeth bared and fists sporadically clenching at his sides.

“You have to be more… specific...” Timothy slurred, exhaustion still clouding his mind. In the last month he did a lot of things he would rather forget. Changing his name and throwing away his life once again was one of those.

“My daughter… My Angel! You fuck! You - You scented - YOU STOLE MY DAUGHTER.” John latched onto his brother’s shirt and jerked Timothy upwards, an unusual strength for someone in his condition.

“Wait...I didn't know...that you hadn't! I thought...I thought that had already happened! With you!” Timothy was not lying as he stared wide-eyed at his furious sibling. John dragged Tim towards the crib where Angel was peacefully sleeping, undisturbed by all the yelling and shoved his brother near it.

“Smell it.”

Tim did, and all he could sense was his own scent, nothing unusual after carrying the child around for two hours.

“It smells like me?”

“Fucking exactly! Do you know what you did?” John snarled, face inches away from Timothy’s. “You imprinted on my daughter. Claimed her, you ASSHOLE!! Just like those Alphas would! Like all of you child snatching - ”

Timothy remembered the surge of warmth as the baby pressed into him and a cuddle he gave her. He felt something then, it was vague and nameless, but that must have been what John was talking about.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t - She was crying so much...” Timothy whined, desperate for John to understand he had no ill intent. He really did not realize what he did, he did not even know it was a thing up until now.

“Fucking damn Alphas! You don't know anything that isn't shoved right in front of your fucking nose” John was hissing like a snake. “You stole my child!”

"You don't even call her by her name, you don't even look at her!"

Timothy pushed his brother away, slowly standing up. He had enough of this mess. “You never feed her, you hardly touch her. How is she yours?!”

"Don't you dare!" John's ranting woke Angel, and as the two brother's continued to curse back at one another her screams raised until she was red in the face.

Something switched inside of Timothy's head, seeing Angel so distraught once again, and now knowing all this time she had not been imprinted.

"You...you absolute shit," Timothy rasped under his breath.

And in one long stride, he was in front of his brother with both hands latched onto the front of his shirt. He pushed John back and slammed his head into the wall.

"This is why you didn't want her to go to the Doctor?!" Timothy roared and throttled his brother's head against the wall once again.

"You KNEW! You knew why she was upset! Why she hadn't been eating!!!! You refused to imprint on her! DIDN'T YOU?! Because what?! Because you thought it would make you a lesser person?!”

When John's expression turned to fear, and soon after resentment, Timothy had his answer.

"Get out." Timothy bared his teeth and towered over his brother.

"You can't, she's mine-"

"GET OUT!" Timothy pointed to the door, not at all caring if his brother ever came back.

The fact he put his own daughter through such anguish and pain, all because he could not stand to be a father or an Omega, made Timothy's insides curdle with rage. John put his ego above a wellbeing of a small dependent child and if his brother could not be the father Angel needed, then Tim would have to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And I'm back! um, I hope you're liking this story? let me know in the comments. Next chapter will jump a few years! and eventually this story will end up on Helios. 
> 
> X


	5. Chapter 5

Timothy gently closed the door and beckoned Kevin to come close. The young Omega threw a last stare at the sofa and quietly slid down in the hallway, smiling softly.

“How was it?” Timothy asked as he pulled out his wallet, counting 25 bucks and passing it to Kevin.

“She played a lot, and we read some books,” the Omega announced, happily. He and Angel became fast friends on day one, making Timothy's decision to hire Kevin as a babysitter all the easier. “Stubborn little thing, she wanted to stay awake till you come back. Made it ten minutes longer than on Monday. ”

Timothy snorted tiredly and thanked the kid for his services, asking if he was free on Friday. Kevin said he probably was, but he would get back to Timothy tomorrow. The boy was fourteen and still had good two years in him before the first heat. Timothy did not want to think about it, he would have to replace Kevin with someone else, a young Omega in heat would do things to his head he felt disgusted about. He felt nauseated when agreeing with Kevin about the nature of the job: talking to minors about their first heat felt wrong even if their fucked up society did not condone it. Omegas had to be self-aware about themselves from the very tender age, and Timothy could only hope that Angel would not have to go through that.

He kicked off his shoes and walked into the living room, settling down beside the yellow blanket pile on the couch. At the age of three Angel still slept with her father’s jumper. Timothy found it important she had that. A little part of John that he refused to provide. Angel did not have to know what it was, it just had to be there. He dug her up from the soft cocoon, and her bright blue eyes opened slightly, sleepy smile grazing rosy lips.

“Hi...”

“Hi, darling, miss me?”

“Very,” she yawned and burrowed her face into his chest. Timothy scrunched his nose; the shirt smelled like cigarettes and alcohol, his boss still did not instal proper ventilation in the club, fucking cheapskate.

“How about a book and a bed, kiddo?”

“No...” The girl whined and curled up tighter. Timothy sighed and moved back to the sofa. Angel was in the mood for using him as a pillow. It sometimes happened when she missed him too much through the day. A prospect of the child in his arms put a damper on the beer and cig he was dying to get after a hellish shift.

It took him half an hour of walking around and telling the story of Purrie the Wolf, a friend to all the critters in the forest, for the fifth time until Angel was out like a light. He tucked her in and beelined to the fridge, popping a cold can open and licking the foam off the lid. The next moment a cigarette was in his mouth and, as Timothy clicked the lighter, a knock on the door distracted him, forcing him to put a cig behind his ear and walk briskly into the hallway. His history with late night visits was rather questionable. He opened the door and a moment later was staring at own face, wearing a shit-eating grin and reeking of cheap alcohol.

“Guess who’s in town, baby brother!”

Once again, John pushed Timothy aside and walked into the kitchen like he owned the place. In a way he did, the name was on the lease and shared by both brothers: to the outside world, there were no twins that were once called Timothy DeWitt and John Summers. There was only a guy who was named Jack Lawrence and, depending on who you ask, he was either a debauching brilliant student with a bad temper at Eden-5 University or a single father working inhuman shifts at the seedy bar downtown. Suffice to say the brothers were smart and did not intersect within the same suburbs to keep their own Jack Lawrence personas afloat.

“Why are you here?” Timothy pursed his lips together.

“School’s out!” John bellowed as he stuck his head in the fridge. “Permanently. Say hello to the freshly baked genius software engineer!”

“Stop fucking yelling,” Timothy hissed and slammed the door of the fridge inches away from John’s long nose. “You’ll wake up Angel.”

“Oh what? She’s here?” John slurred, making Timothy roll his eyes as he herded his brother out of the kitchen.

“She is three, John. Where do you think she’d be at this hour?”

At the mentioning of the girl’s age coherence sparkled in his twin’s eyes as he stumbled closer and grabbed Timothy by the front of his shirt.

“Did you check her?!”

The first outing of one’s endotype usually happened around the age of three, that is how it went with the twins. One night John developed fever and cramps in his neck, while Timothy was suffering from high temperature and pains all along his jaw. A trip to the emergency clinic had changed everything: John was in the process of developing a bonding gland that panned him as an omega while Timothy's milk canines were giving way to permanent elongated sharp ones of an Alpha. As soon as John was healthy enough, he was given away for adoption.

“So did you test her?!” He whispered loudly, looking around. 

Timothy scrunched his nose. Underneath the smell of cheap booze lingered something else. It was sour, like wet earth and it reminded him of weak and mostly impotent Alphas. His fingers locked around John’s wrist, moving forward as his nostrils flared and nails dug into his twin’s skin.

“Your smell. What the hell are you taking?”

“Nothing,” John answered hastily and his eyes darted sideways, a sign of lying Timothy knew as his own even tho he rarely lied before his brother came back into his life.

Another whiff and Timothy skewed his face.

“Are you taking hormones? The shitty street ones?!”

“Get fucking off me you creep!” Jack screeched, and next moment a noise from Angel’s room made both of them fall silent as the girl mumbled in her sleep and stirred.

“She went for a checkup last week,” Timothy sighed, coming back to the previous conversation. “Nothing. But apparently male Omegas have a very high chance of bearing an Alpha offspring, so calm down.”

“I freaking hope so. Otherwise, I suffered for bloody nothing,” John grumbled as he marched into the living room and plopped on the sofa, taking his mask off with one hand and undoing belt with another. “I fucking cannot even properly get laid because of this,” his fingers grabbed at the flab on his stomach as he made an annoyed noise.

“Get over yourself,” Timothy commented quietly lighting a cigarette. At this point he did not care that he was smoking inside, John was getting on his nerves.

A long-standing bitterness remained between the two of them from when Timothy kicked John out of his own daughter's life. John moped around the streets of Acadine before Nisha nabbed him, dragged him back and made the two of them 'make up', or rather, force them to work out an arrangement for Angel's benefit.

Timothy worked, and John studied. Raising Angel was meant to be a joint responsibility but naturally, the role of 'Dad' had fallen on Timothy's shoulders.

John was ranting idly on the couch, and Timothy's chain of thought only landed back on him at the mention of a certain someone. 

“....when you're not doing gross Alpha blood play with Nisha,” John scoffed, and Timothy felt heat creeping up his neck. “When did you last see her?”

The thought of Nisha made Timothy's abdomen stir. They had been apart for some time. Their relationship was of the open kind, and Nisha’s job often required her to disappear for prolonged periods of time.

“Oh it’s been long,” John grinned and smacked his lips together. “Are you sitting on your left hand like a good boy?” He finished that with a lazy pumping motion.

“When did  _ you _ last see her?” Timothy asked, ignoring his brother’s filthy remarks.

“During my last heat,” John confessed. “Could not get off campus, so spent like three days locked up with her in a shed somewhere. She pretty much stuck a - ”

“Fucking hell, John, I am really not interested in  _ that _ .”

Even though Timothy knew Nisha helped John with all his heats and he accepted that fact with some lingering discomfort, he really did not want to hear the whole thing. His brother and Nisha had an agreement that went back to his first heat. She would help him, she would look after him and NEVER bond him. The female Alpha diligently minded their agreement, but both were tight-lipped as to how this arrangement came to be. 

“ - rion offered me a position.”

Timothy took a long drag and puffed out smoke, blinking absentmindedly.

“What?”

“Hyperion scouted me. Got offered a mid-weight position in software development.”

“You’re taking it, right?”

“Does a bear shit in the woods?” John looked at him like he was a total and utter idiot. “Of - fucking - course!”

Timothy gave Jack a curt smile and dove back into the kitchen, coming back with another beer but not before checking up on Angel. He stepped back outside where John was already on his second cig and passed his brother a beer can. An ugly feeling of jealousy stirred within Timothy as he eyed his brother’s shape draped in letterman jacket leaning against the railing. This could have been him, it should have been him, his parents had been preparing him for Eden leagues from the day he could talk. Being average at best did not matter: if you were a Dewitt you had opportunities thrown under your feet as you walked over them and picked the best ones.

It all changed with a brother and a child. Tim was not ready to be a father either, but John left him with little options, and he would never give his niece away the way his parents gave away her father. On top of that, the residual guilt about John’s upbringing allowed his brother to latch onto him, emotionally and financially. His fingers wrapped tightly around the can, making metal creak under pressure.

“You’re ok?” John’s face popped in front of him and Timothy sighed, raising his beer.

“I’m fine. To Hyperion,” he toasted, eyes cast downwards, he could not look at his brother right now.

“To opportunities,” John replied stiffly.

* * *

Timothy groaned as the persistence nudging on his face continued. Sleepily he opened one eye and found Angel standing on her tiptoes poking a finger into his cheek.

"Dad, daaaaaaad, there's someone on the couch."

"That's..." Timothy paused to yawn, "uncle John, remember?"

She shook her head. John hadn't been home since the mid-sem break, so long ago it was that Angel had already forgotten who he was. 

"He's come home for the summer."

"Did you see? He has a funny face."

Timothy laughed, "yeah darling, I know. He's very shy about his scar, ok? So best not to mention it."

She nodded meekly.

Timothy sighed, he wasn't sure how his brother was going to react to being labelled 'Uncle John', but it was the only thing he could say to explain the identical man on the couch. Knowing his brother, he would not care about the label of 'Dad' being bestowed onto Timothy, but then again, John's emotions regarding his daughter were chaotic. One moment he'd be so disinterested in her he'd forget she existed, next second he'd be grilling Timothy on who was her sitter, what she had for dinner and what kindergarten she was going to go to.

"Come here, Angel." 

She hurriedly scrambled up on the bed and snuggled up to Timothy. He lightly stroked her short dark hair as they both fell back asleep.

It wasn't long afterwards that the sound of John making a racket in the kitchen caused Angel to impatiently kick him and wake him up. She did not want to venture out into the kitchen alone, and she eagerly pulled Timothy's hand to the edge of the bed.

He was wrecked, too many late shifts and early starts had taken away his energy to entertain a three-year-old. His 20's gone in the blink of an eye the moment his brother rocked up on his doorstep. At 24 his life should involve late nights at bars, not serving behind them, evenings with friends over, road trips and maybe even a stint at university.

John got that life, and he got full-time Dad. 

"Say good morning to Uncle John." Timothy rested a hand on her shoulder and gently tried to encourage her to step forward.

"It's  _ Jack _ ," his brother replied unnecessarily aggressively. Timothy raised a brow and gave his brother a stern look.

"Um, ah Uncle Jack, that's me," John forced a smile and Timothy continued to eye his brother as he tried to dispel his previous aggressive greeting.

Angel said nothing and lingered close to Timothy.

"You ain't got shit in this house, so I did a run to the shops, I'm making pancakes," John declared and swivelled on the spot and entered back into the kitchen.

To be fair there was food, but John had a talent for winning Angel over with high sugar home cooked meals. The number of strawberries and the bottle of maple syrup on the counter was evidence of that.

"You want a pancake, kiddo?" John beamed.

Angel's face lit up, and she started tugging on Timothy sweatpants to pull him into the kitchen.

Timothy scooped Angel up and sat her up on the high-stool so she could watch John prep the meal before he made straight for the coffee machine. John hummed some horrible tune as he mixed up the eggs, flour and milk. His mood was an improvement from last night. Angel was at that impressionable age, and Timothy did not want John's wild antics influencing her.

Though he was not always the best role model. He should stamp out the smoking. 

He passed a coffee to his brother and got some thanks. At least their previous argument from the night before was behind them. There were large bags under John's eyes, and he still reeked of alcohol, Timothy reasoned he needed the pancakes more than Angel.

"Dad," Angel was pointing to the charging tablet indicating she wanted to play her favourite game. Something about collecting cats, at least she hadn't asked for a real one. 

His brother said nothing upon hearing her call him 'Dad’ but his gaze darkened a bit. 

Timothy was thankful, it was too early in the morning to deal with an outburst from John. He wondered, however, at what age will she'd start to ask questions, why 'Uncle Jack' had a 'bond' brand, why they shared the same name on paper, why 'uncle Jack' smelt funny.

It was disgusting, the artificial Alpha smell radiating from his brother gave Timothy a headache. John wasn't one to discuss it, but Timothy had his suspicions his brother was looking into other ways to change his endotype.

"DADDDDDD" Angel was whining and pointing to the tablet again. Timothy hastily swallowed down his coffee and set the mug aside to fetch the device. 

She cheered when she got her tablet and happily started checking on her digital kittens. When John served up the pancake, Angel gawked at him in a way which was not discreet and very obviously at his scar.

"Want to know how I got this," John teased sweetly.

Angel shyly nodded.

"John, enough, a story for another time." Timothy stepped in and pushed his brother away. Angel was indeed not ready for that piece of history, and John knew better. He used such tactics to stir Timothy up and win Angel over to his side, only then to leave with promises of presents and road trips that he'd never fulfil.

It was infuriating, his brother's complete lack of interest for his daughter, besides to play power games over her attention for the fleeting moments he was home. For Angel’s sake Tim tried to keep his complaints under the cover. His parents had a habit of fighting in front of him and he remembered feeling terrible afterwards.

After breakfast Angel was on her play mat piecing together large lego blocks into all kinds of space crafts. It amused Timothy that even at such tender age she seemed to display a will to build aerodynamically plausible models. He had her setup close to the sliding balcony door, so he could watch her while the brothers enjoyed a cigarette and another coffee.

"I want to know what shit you're pumping yourself with. Do you know what that street stuff can do you to?" Timothy scolded his brother before eyeing him carefully. The smell had bothered him the moment John rolled into his apartment.

John only responded with two words, 'fuck off.'

"Life is easier like this, you wouldn't know," he drew a deep drag of his cigarette and made no effort to blow the smoke downwind. "You just had it all handed to you on a little diamond platter."

Timothy glared through the puff of grey and didn't break the cold stare even when his eyes stung from the smoke. He had had enough of his brother's guilt-inducing remarks, it had been years since John came back into his life. Everything Timothy did was for him and for Angel and John gave nothing back. 

"Drop it, you can't keep hanging onto what our parents did."

"Sure I can," John muttered coldly and stared off into the cityscape, blowing smoke through his nose, lip curled up in disdain.

"John, this is bloody serious. If you keep taking those hormones, you'll mess with your heats," Tim chewed on his bottom lip, helplessly trying to calm himself down but the hostility was making his blood boil.

"Which part of 'fuck off' did you miss?” John barked back, giving him a stink eye. “It's a good thing I'm the one in school because I'm pretty sure they never taught you anything besides courtship and elitism in those damn Alpha institutions. "

"Enough!" Timothy threw himself to his feet, smashing his coffee onto the small table. "Your name may be on the lease, but I’m the one paying for you to get the damn education, not to stuff yourself with crap and talk back!"

"Not any more. You still don't listen, do you baby brother?” John answered sweetly. Too sweetly if Timothy bothered to care. “I've got a date with Hyperion, soon I'll be the one paying for us to move up."

"Pay all you fucking want, you'll never be a father to her, John. You’ve made your choice."

The words left his mouth before Timothy even registered them. All the neatly stacked grievances burst out, aiming to hit his brother where it hurt the most: his inability to be a parent. John was complicated like that: refusing to be a father, his omega nature still drew him back to the child he carried and suffered for.

Timothy should have seen the fist coming. Extreme aggression was another symptom of hormone abuse and John's rage was equal to an Alpha in a frenzy. No matter what drugs he took, Timothy would always be the stronger one; genetics were on his side. He took the hit, spitting out blood he stumbled back but not before he kicked the small glass coffee stand into John's shin. 

John made a gagging noise as the glass shattered against him. His hands found their way around his leg, applying pressure to the cut as he cursed loudly.

"You better get your priorities straight, because, at the moment, the only thing that should be in your headlights is Hyperion. Not wanting a knot in your dick or canines of an Alpha, you moron!"

"Fuck you, Timmy, you're nothing but a spoilt alpha cu-"

"Dad?"

"-nt"

Timothy rounded on the door as Angel managed to budge it open and walk onto the balcony.

"Angel, sweety, come here. How about some juice?” He scooped Angel up before John could utter another word. “And then maybe you can show me your new spacecraft?"

This was just like the mid-sem break. And the summer before that. And the break before that one too.

John came home and, eventually, unable to exist in the same space, the two of them would fight. Angel had been young enough to not know any better, but she had inherited her father's brilliance - as much as Timothy did not want to admit it-  and she was becoming sharper and more perceptive to the continuous discord between the two brothers.

Sooner or later things were going to escalate and Timothy just hoped Angel would not be caught in the middle of it. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi new subscribers! Thanks for jumping on board, would love to hear from you! um, this is my first fic, so I really hope you like it. I'm a little nervous posting and sharing, hence why updates are so few and far between. 
> 
> But I'm slow getting my confidence! Thanks Fiddle for comments on all the chapters, you're the best!


	6. Chapter 6

He had a date lined up and she was pretty damn fine too. Yet, all plans went out the door when Timothy had to leave for work and told him the sitter wasn't coming over today.

So now he was the sitter, fucking great.

"Dad?" a soft, whiny voice called from behind the couch and John put his beer on the glass table, propping himself up.

"He's at work, kiddo."

"Oh..." despite the disappointment in her voice Angel still crept around the corner of the couch, a blue bunny under one arm and her yellow cuddle rug in the other. It still both amused and infuriated John that his brother gave her his old favourite jumper to snuggle with. 

"What's wrong? You can't sleep?"

Angel nodded meekly as she gradually crept towards him. 

It was always like this when he came home: the first few days she would be a cautious little thing, ever hiding behind Timothy and shyly asking a question or two. It would pass and by the end of the week, she would not stop trailing after him eagerly asking him about every nonsensical thing that came to her silly mind.

It was bloody exhausting, often infuriating and John didn't know how his brother did it.

Securing work was the only way for him to escape the parental responsibilities. Timothy had been working relentlessly to support not only himself and Angel but to pass on an allowance to John. The scholarship covered his studies and rent but not the food, the bills and _other_ social activities he was already missing.

Plus, those off - brand alpha hormones weren’t cheap.

"I'm sick," Angel whined and John blinked slowly realising she was still standing beside the couch and staring at him with those enormous blue eyes.

"Come ‘ere."

He beckoned her to approach and she slowly climbed onto the couch. When she was up, she crawled over to him and was eager to cuddle up but John pressed a palm into her shoulder to still her. As he rested the back of his hand on her forehead, he realised she was wrecked with a fever.

A fever at her age usually meant two things. She was either sick or - 

"Anything else hurts?" John asked hastily, fear and worry made his voice sound unusually strained and concerned.

_Do not say your neck, do not fucking let it be that._

"Everything," she groaned again as she rubbed her swollen face on his chest.

"Open up," John rested two hands against her face and gently prodded her cheeks.

She silently obeyed and opened her mouth. 

There was nothing to indicate her Alpha canines were forming, he could not see anything out of the norm. His breath hitched in his throat as he gently rubbed the back of her neck and found there was swelling at the base.

"Fuck," he whispered to himself, breaking a sweat.

The development of the Omega gland started with swelling in the neck and a fever.

"Owwwww," Angel squealed and struggled out of his hands.

Her painful noises roused John out of his stupor as he realized he'd been unknowingly clenching down on her shoulders. His hands returned into tightly wound fists as he got off the couch.

Angel curled up into a ball on the couch as he sought out his echo. Dialling his brother's number, he paced the living room waiting for the connection.

After he failed to reach him, John left a series of very loud and incorrect voicemails for his brother to discover.

"Fucking dammit! Angel, where is your coat?!" he barked out, grabbing his leather jacket.

* * *

Picking a sucker up was the easy part, finding the time to _also_ get laid was the challenge, and Timothy was not going to miss this rare chance.

With his brother looking after Angel the night was his. His shift was ending and there was gorgeous omega who'd been giving him eyes all night. Though he prefered an Alpha in bed, he did not have time for that, most Alpha’s were not an easy lay. He also did not feel like bringing someone new home with John and Angel around. The Omega accepted his free drinks with playful eyes and slipped his number back to him.

Timothy knew he was popular and he only needed to jerk his head to the door to indicate he was leaving. Screw the Omega's number, he was not in the dating mood and had only one thing on his mind right now. The Omega whispered excitedly to his drinking buddies before happily trailing after Tim like a good bitch he was.

A single parent was not something on many people’s wish lists but a single Alpha father without a mate? He practically had Omegas jumping at him left, right and centre. His own kind was a bit less hasty to appreciate.

Most of the comments were eye-roll inducing, misogynist and derogative to their own endotype. 

_'Ohhh an Alpha who cares for his pup, how sweet.'_

_'I wish my Alpha was like that.'_

_'Your mate ran off? How could they, look at her, such a cutie.'_

They would all coo to him and to Angel if they were out at the park. Not that it really bothered him. He'd take what attention he could get. Pathetic for a DeWitt but he had made his peace with that.

Timothy's car was as far as they got. 

The Omega, who's named Timothy did not even bother to remember was whining and pleading underneath him. Begging for that knot as Tim growled low and upped his pace, ass exposed to the cold night air, while the obedient Omega squirmed, plastered on his stomach across the back seats.

Timothy was not going to oblige, he did not have time to be locked to some pick up from the bar. The Omega whined more and glanced over his shoulder. Sweat was dripping down the young man’s spine, as he was pleading with Tim once again.

Timothy only pressed a hand down onto the Omega’s back to hold him still as he worked his pace into a brutal rhythm. He hated when Omegas talked during sex. They had no right. They should be happy he fucked them and keep their wishes to themselves. 

Hell, it had been too long.

John complained about getting laid? Timothy would bet it was only a week ago. For him it had been _months_.

"Please! Fuck, please, do it,"

"Not tonight, babe, shut it."

Timothy pulled out but not before wrapping his hand tight around the other man's cock and jerking them both off to their climax. He bit into Omega’s shoulder and enjoyed how the pretty boy rutted into the back seat with a moan full of both pleasure and frustration at the loss. It quickly changed to satisfaction and ecstasy as Timothy soothed and played with the skin under his enlarged canines,

They cleaned themselves up and Timothy knew he was a terrible lay. The effort just wasn't in him, but the Omega acted like he'd bestowed him with the greatest sexual experience to be had.

It sent swirls of nausea down to his gut. What if this Omega recognised him? What if he knew he was a DeWitt? 

To be with such an elite was the dream of half the Omegas, the other half, akin to John, wanted to tear the high societies down. Timothy despised his status but he sure did miss some of the perks. Thankfully, the other man seemed interested in getting off and he told Tim he'd call back. Most likely a lie and when the other man left in a cab, Timothy snuck back into the bar to join his workmates.

A long night of drinking was ahead of him, undisturbed by patrons and the likes.

* * *

By the time the cab reached the hospital Angel’s bed clothes were soaked with sweat and her fever was dangerously high. John shoved a handful of money to the driver, not even bothering to count it, scooped up Angel and speed towards the large red emergency lights. Before the sliding doors opened, he was screaming at the closest nurse to admit them.

Angel squirmed in his arms, her soft cries tugging at something inside of John, something alien that he had not felt in so long, if ever at all.

The nurse swung the hover bed toward him and he gently laid her down. 

"It's ok kiddo, everything's ok, daddy is here."

"Noooo," she whined, "he's not." Angel kicked and cried out, as John tried to hush her with promises of morning pancakes and ice cream.

She ignored him, wailing in a tantrum, curling up, face red from both tears and fever. As the nurse ordered the hover bed to be taken away John followed, only to be blocked by the same nurse once again, holo-pad in hand and face severe.

“Let me through!” He hissed like a snake and bared his teeth. “My kid is in there!”

"I know this is very stressful, Mr, um - ?"

"Lawrence," John rounded on the nurse who was blocking his path. He stood on his toes and caught one last glimpse of Angel as she disappeared behind two sliding doors.

"I see," she nodded slowly and typed something onto the pad. Lips twitching before speaking again. "And she's your daughter you say?"

"Yes, bloody hell, Yes! So let me through."

She paused and typed something else onto the board.

"Ok Mr. Lawrence, please follow me."

"Finally, thank you." John huffed out and stayed close on the nurse's trail.

She led him to the very doors in which Angel had disappeared through, slid her key-card through and entered. The hallways beyond were filled with more hover beds, bustling doctors and nurses. She took a sharp turn, used the key-card again and opened the door for John to walk on through.

Though she did not follow.

"Someone will be with you in a moment to discuss your daughter's case."

And the door closed behind him. 

Angel was not here. The room was just another ward but patientless and dark. An uneasy feeling settled down in his stomach and John tried to dial back, replaying the conversation he just had.

_‘And she is your daughter, you say?’_

John cursed and started pacing up and down, knuckles pressed tightly to his lips and the other hand on his stomach in an attempt to cradle away the feeling of unease. He felt cornered even though nothing indicated he actually was.

The sound of keycard in the lock made him jolt his head upwards and watch a doctor enter, tailed by the two security guards.

“Mister Lawrence?” The doctor adjusted his small glasses as his gaze flicked between the screen and John. “Would you mind telling me your full name, age, birthplace and endotype?”

He knew the words to say, he'd practised them repeatedly the moment he adopted his new name, and yet right now, when it most mattered, all that came out was a stutter and a name he left behind.

"John Summers, 24, Pandora, I mean Tantalus, I’m from Tantalus,” he hastily licked his lips and mentally cursed himself.

“And your endotype?”

“Oh, yeah, um Alpha."

The doctor lowered his holo-screen, puckered his lips before sighing.

"Here is the issue here, mister _Summers_. I don't believe that child is your daughter."

"What did you just -"

John's crude remark was cut off but a firm look and even harsher words. "When you've been a doctor as long as I am, you learn to sniff out a thing or two." The doctor's gaze was distant and cold, looking at him was a displeasure on the eyes.

"The hormones in your system would deceive the common nose, but you and I both know you're not an Alpha. And if that bond-brand is anything to go by, I'd say she's not your daughter."

"What?" John's hands shot upwards and instead of feeling the cool synthetic skin of his mask he felt the mangled flesh of his own ruined face. 

John’s heart dropped, chills ripping down his spine. In his blind panic he dashed out of the house with Angel, forgetting to put his mask on.

“I am not lying!” He wheezed, desperately trying not to freak out, as his hands clutched at the hem of his shirt. “I am her father! Test me if you fucking need it!” He threw out his arm rolling up the sleeve and exposing tanned skin.

The security guards shifted as if expecting him to hold a gun but John kept staring at the doctor. 

“Please,” a largely unfamiliar word left his lips, as he started to tremble from stress and tension. The doctor swiped a couple of apps around and clicked open his stylus, revealing a small apparatus within. It landed on top of John’s wrist and left a fleeting burning sensation. The doctor plugged the device back into the tablet and a few minutes passed before he looked up but the frown did not go away.

“The DNA test does pan you as a parent, Mr Summers,” he cleared his throat and tapped the glass of the holo-pad. “But I cannot ignore the fact you’ve used a fake name.”

There was no way to get out of this. Nobody would believe him, for the brand was screaming louder than anything he could say against it. And so John braved himself and sucked the air through clenched teeth, huddling his shoulders. He did this before and he could do it again.

“Like you would fucking admit a child of an Omega the way you did with my little Alpha trick, you elitist assholes!” He snarled. “Call my twin!”

"And who is your twin?" The doctor replied with a bored tone.

"Timothy DeWitt, and yes you fucking heard right. So let me see my daughter now, goddammit."

The effect was immediate.

The moment the name DeWitt was said aloud the security next to the doctors shifted uncomfortably, and the man himself dropped the holo-pad to his side.

"DeWitt? _The_ Dewitt line?"

"Did I fucking stutter," Jack rasped and shoved his hand forward to push past the cluster of assholes. "My daughter, where is she?!"

"This way sir. Um, Mr Summers, I mean DeWitt."

The doctor's entire composure changed. He led John out of the room and sped down the hall all the while passing anxious glances back at him. And as they reached the pediatrics department, he was all but spluttering apologies. 

It was _just_ like it was back in the ship-port when they first fled Tantalus together. John had been travelling on his brother's passport, and every damn person from the cab driver to the pilots kissed the ground he walked. He didn't even need to go through security, so marvelled they were by his presence.

How Timothy was able to give that all up was beyond him. 

A dark green curtain was pulled aside and there curled up on the bed was his Angel.

"Baby girl," John whispered and all but ran to her side. His hands brushed loose strands from her hair, and he took note how much cooler her forehead was.

The doctor was hastily replaced with a nurse, and to John's astonishment, she wore a bright smile. 

"Congratulation, your daughter is developing her Alpha canines perfectly. We've not detected any anomalies, so she should be free for discharge in a few hours. "

"She's what?" John stuttered that couldn't be right. She had swelling on her neck, just like he had when his bond gland was developing. His hands shot upwards, stroking the sensitive skin of the unmarked spot. "But... the swelling on her neck?"

"A common mistake, sir. Lymph nodes will often swell and become tender when their endotype starts presents itself. This can look a lot like the development of a bonding gland."

John just stared at the nurse and then back at Angel. 

"I'll go retrieve the discharge documents for you to sign," she finished with another bright smile, turned on heel and left. 

"An Alpha," John whispered and sat in the nearby chair next to Angel. His hands returned to stroking her soft black hair. It was all worth it. To be in that awful place. To endure the punishments and humiliation. He had made an Alpha. The girl who will be able to rip every benefit of this fucked up society, something he never got to enjoy.

"Where's Dad?" Angel murmured softly.

"I'm here, kiddo." 

"Noooo, I want _my_ Dad, not you!"

She squeezed her eyes shut and pulled the covers overhead. 

John exhaled softly and buried his face in his hands. What a fucking evening it had been. And to to be the cherry on this fucking disaster of a cake his idiot one - braincelled brother still did not call him back. 

The curtain was abruptly pulled to the side and John glanced up, feeling his stomach drop in the pit once again.

The same doctor as before and his two beta security guards were on his tail and they looked infuriated. It seems his ‘con’ had come to an end. He was hoping Tim would contact him by now but that was too much to expect it seemed.

"Timothy DeWitt has no twin, and there are certainly no Omega's in that family line."

John swallowed and chewed the inside of his lip. He did not want to make a scene in front of Angel, least of all have her stir and call him not her Dad in front of these idiots.

"What do you want," he growled softly, hand now lingering over the covers next to Angel.

"It's a federal crime to lie about your endotype and family line."

John huffed out, eyes darting between Angel, the exit, and the men in front of him. It was taking every ounce of self-control he possessed to not stand up and smash the man's brains with the legs of his chair. Or perhaps he could rip down the curtain and strangle the thick neck that sat under the doctor's second chin.

Both options were not ideal for Angel's or his brother's sake but it would be bloody satisfying for him. To see them squirm and to see them all gag and beg under his grasp. 

"With me, Mr Summers, or whoever you damn are."

The doctor swept his arm to his side and gestured to the far exit.

John tugged down the covers to find Angel's scrunched up, snot and tear staining her face. Before he could lean down and pick her up, rough hands hooked him under the arms and yanked him from her side.

"Angel!"

His cry was cut short, and a silent but violent jab caught him under the ribs taking the air out of him. 

"An…gel!" he rasped, trying to struggle back to her side. "Get your fucking hands off me!"

Angel stirred and sat up on the bed. Eyes wide and red as she stared back at him silent and confused.

_"Angel!"_

He was thrown over the ward exit threshold and into the adjacent wall. His head hit the mint green stone, head swimming he tried to swing a punch but blindly missed and only copped another jab to the gut.

"Get down, son."

John blinked slowly and sought to get his bearings. They had just ripped him away from his own daughter's side, and now he was being beaten in the adjoining hallway. 

He proved he was the father, what else did they want?

The damn mark on his face seemed to burn as fresh as the night he received it. There had been a doctor there too, warning against branding him when he was days from delivering. But they did not heed the physician's advice. Instead, they tied him to the bed and delivered the molten hot iron into his face. 

John coughed and squeezed his eyes tight. He felt a wetness on his cheeks and feelings, so alien inside of him began to curdle and boil. Soon enough they festered to blind anger and, with another howl of rage, John tried to take down the two betas only to be grabbed by the jaw and slammed into the wall. 

The blunt trauma caused his legs to give out and slowly he slid down the wall. Another derogative curse was rasped above him before everything churned to black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys! This took forever and I am SO sorry. Uni and life had been crazy O_O And my beta also took forever to get back to me which is ok, haha. But now we have this!
> 
>  
> 
> John is showing rudimentary parental instincts. it is something he will keep struggling with even now that he pretty much surrendered Angel to Tim. But ownership trait is strong in that young and very stupid man.
> 
>  
> 
> tell me what you thought, I love to her from you <3


	7. Chapter 7

The voices were muffled, smothered through glass or trapped in some far away dream. John groaned and rolled to the side He was stuck on something hard, and every part of him ached, his head worst of all.

It was only when the name Dewitt made it through the buzzing in his head did his eyes fly open. Sitting up, he found himself lying on a chain supported slatted bench in what he immediately recognised as a jail cell. It had been a while since he had been in one of these. Ever since he took on the name "Jack Lawrence" he had endeavoured to stay out of the kind of trouble that would see him behind bars.

The name Dewitt was mentioned again, the voice akin to his own, though much more slurred. Wincing John heaved himself to his feet and trod to the viewing window and tried to capture a glimpse of his visitor.

His brother - still in the clothes he left for work in - was leaning casually against the wall. Arms cross and head tilted to the side he was engaged in what appeared to be a lighthearted conversation with one of his jailers.

Something was wrong with that picture. The manner in which he brother regarded the guard, his casual demeanour, hell the fact he'd not even made a move to approach him.

"Oh, dipshit, get me out!" John snapped after his brother continued his conversation with his jailer.

Timothy's eyes narrowed, and his face drew stiff as his gaze landed on him. He whispered something to the guard before chuckling and pulling himself off the wall to make his way towards him. John drew a sharp breath over his teeth. His brother's 'walk' was tilted, legs swaying to the side as he approached.

"Sup," Tim chimed and wore a bright lopsided smile.

"Sup!? Where the fuck is Angel?"

"Calm down, it's all handled."

"Handled?"

"Yeah, handled. I handled it."

"Lemme guess, you flashed those pretty pearls of yours, and they all lined up to suck you off?" John practically spat the words out.

It wasn't so much what his brother said next, it was more the manner in how he said it. Coated in disgusted, he spoke as if John were a slug barring the walkway, worth of nothing but a shoe in his face.

"Watch your tone, you're a branded Omega. Learn to know your place."

"So who is he to you?" The guard had crept up and looked as if a foul stench had filled the room.

John had a pretty good guess as to why.

"My body double," Timothy crossed his arms again and frowned, "Carried MY pup like a good boy and then decided to bolt. But we caught up to you, didn't we Johnny?" Timothy glared at him and with a crooked grin tapped at own face where the scar had mangled John’s eye.

"Ah, I see." The Alpha guard smirked, licked his lips and traced the burned mark on the air, composing a fake sizzling noise. “S’up, mamaboy. Haven’t seen your toasty kind in a while.”

"Well, most people are not stupid enough to go against nature, now are they?"

John said nothing as he kept throwing angry glares in Tim’s direction.

The guard took an unceremonious whiff and bared his teeth in a grin. "Bloody hell, he smells." The guard remarked and crossed his arms. "What the fuck are you shooting up, boy?"

“Piss off, asshole" John snarled, but his voice betrayed him by the slight tremble at the end.

If Timothy was playing a role, then he was fucking too good at it. He didn't even glance at him, save to sneer down through the bars. It stung, seeing his own brother degrade him like that, even if it was a performance.

"Thank you, officer, but I will take it from here."

"Of course, sir."

The guard gave John another fleeting stare before entering the key code and letting the barred door slide open. John did not waste his time and darted out, taking an unsteady swing at the guard. Before he managed to land the punch, he was grabbed by the collar of his shirt and yanked backwards, Timothy’s lips inches away from his ear, breath coated with a thick layer of cheap alcohol and cigarettes.

“John, NO.” The whisper was almost inaudible, but there was a clear threat in it. Underneath that, there was a desperate plea not to make it any worse for the both of them and their daughter.

“I remember faces, asshole,” John finally hissed. “Sleep with one eye open.”

Timothy’s hand snaked into his hair and yanked John’s head back, making him yelp in discomfort.

“John, don’t make daddy take you down..”

The sweet tone that Timothy slurred it with made John gag and close his mouth, the guard’s hooting thunderously loud in the silence that followed.

* * *

They were walking down the hallway with Timothy carrying Angel and John trailing behind them with a small booklet and gift bag for his daughter. His jaws were clenched so tightly he could feel his teeth hurt as his eyes kept darting between the sleeping toddler in Tim’s arms and front doors. As those slid aside, John was the first one to stop, his fight or flight reflex ablaze like a bonfire at night. There were very few positive things his endotype contained, but an immaculate sense of imminent danger was one of them. His nails dug into Timothy’s bicep, urging his brother to stop as his eyes scanned the entrance hub.

There, in the far corner stood two suited and very obviously armed men. He did not recognise them, but the manifestation of overwhelming anxiety was reason enough not to pass their way.

"Tim, this way."

"John, the hell are you up to now?" His brother stopped but did not follow.

"Move it."

He lept in front of Timothy, placed two hands onto his shoulders and started to drive him away from the exit. They closed in on a security locked door, and when a nurse paced on through it, he ushered Tim and Angel inside.

"This is ER, we're not supposed to be -,”

"Save it Timtams! We're going this way, NOW."

Moving the same way he had entered, he pushed past the array of hover beds, doctors and nurses. There was too much chaos for anyone to take any notice of them, the perfect place to lose a tail. They made it back into the emergency waiting area, and John all but sprinted for the doors, calling for his brother to bloody hurry.

Tim waved down a car, and John frowned, realizing it wasn't a taxi and it absolutely was not child safe. The rust bucket was covered in bumper stickers, spoiler slapped on the back and the suspension crudely lowered. As the death trap on wheels approached, the window slid down revealing a well-built woman. Tattoos covered her arm as she leaned out to call to them.

"Timmy, you better get inside, I had about a dozen guys all over me as I was waiting and you know how I feel about THAT."

"Who the fuck is this?" John barked eying the woman with overt hostility.

Timothy groaned, swaying lightly and Angel started whining in his arms: she was tired and sensitive.

"Janey, John, John Janey. Cool, now let's mosey."

Janey, whose accent indicated she was from Elpis, reached over and opened the passenger side. She even had to punch the handle a few times to get the door to open. Timothy slid inside with Angel on his lap, and John retreated to the back seat.

"You ever hear of a car wash, honey?"

"John, please," His brother growled from the front. “Not now.”

John opened his mouth to rip at the dumpster on wheels once again when the reason for his display of fear from before became evident.

HE was here. The man who had acted as the middleman for his surrogacy was pacing across the carpark, one hand on his holstered weapon and another pressing his echo-comm to his ear.

"Get the FUCK down!"

John grabbed his brothers shoulders and tried to get him to bend in half, forgetting Angel was on his lap. The kid started crying and desperately kicking into the dashboard.

“John!” Tim cried out over the tantrum, “What the fuck has gotten into you!?"

"Lance. They're here."

That shut him up good. In fact, the whole interior fell still, and even Angel’s sobs became muffled as she hid her face in Tim’s chest.

“Lance?” His brother repeated slowly and peeked at the parking space, searching for the person John saw.

“What did you do to aggro those guys?” Janey asked confused as she started the engine. Their car was blocking the road, and the longer they stood, the more attention it attracted.

John was chewing on his lip: seeing that asshole close up made pins and needles swim in his brain and it took him a moment to realize he was sitting all curled up, hands protectively on his stomach.

“They pinged my name,” he muttered and then cleared his throat with a groan. “I should have said - I said ‘Summers’ to that asshole doctor, FUCK.”

“Janey, we need to get home,” Timothy took out his phone and scrolled through his surprisingly short list of contacts. He pressed the right one and put the phone to his ear, other hand curling around Angel and softly stroking her hair.

“Nish, it’s me, and we have a problem.”

Tim enlightened Janey on their situation as they drove through the empty streets.

"Lance, are pretty serious, are you sure you guys are gonna be ok?" The blonde asked for the umptieth time.

"We're fine," John snapped back, sick of hearing the irritable nasally accent.

Tim made a displeased sound, before turning his attention back to their driver.

"Get Hughes to give you my latest paycheck, I'm not going to be around to collect."

"Seems, like you're gonna need it more than me," she said, as she flicked on the indicator and reached their dingy part of town.

"Just take it, Janey,":

She shrugged, "ain't gonna argue with free money."

"It's not free," Timothy paused, "Lance will come looking for us, they WILL question you, consider it compensation."

"Um...what do you want me to say? I'm not, you know, good at fibbing and stuff."

"The truth, you picked us up from the hospital, and you dropped us off at our apartment. Do NOT lie to them, Janey. I don't want you to get hurt because of this."

The blonde nodded warily and eyed Tim, and Angel carefully before turning around in her seat and giving him a grim look.

"Pull in here," Tim pointed to the curb, "best you don't see which apartment is actually ours."

"Bloody hell, what kind of trouble are you two in? No wait, don't answer that."

Tim chuckled, and John rolled his eyes. His brother's familiarity with the woman was tiresome.

"Alright, best be off the lot of you," she quipped brightly, despite the grim and urgent atmosphere.

"Say bye to the rest of the crew for me."

"Will do," she gave him a solemn salute before pinching Angel's cheeks. "look after this little cutie too."

"Whatever, yeah, bye, " John growled and got out of the car, he could not stand the situation a moment longer.

Janey waved out the window as she pulled out and back into the dimly lit streets.

"Right," Tim sighed and adjusted his grip on Angel. "We go in, and then out. We leave this planet in the next hour, got it?"

He said nothing and followed his brother's lead. As they arrived at the parking space near their dingy apartment, Nisha was there waiting for them with a duffle bag over her shoulder. She was a woman of many talents, but her best quality was that she was always around when needed. Granted, she took liberties in deciding the priorities of said needs, but if the situation was deemed worthy of her presence, Nisha would appear right on time and out of nowhere.

"Boys, what did we do now?"

"His fault," Tim growled and punched the call button for the elevator.

"Oh fuck off Timmy! I took her to the hospital, not my fault they're a bunch of elitist cunts over there."

"Will you stop calling every fucking person who gives you a weird look an 'elitist cunt'!" Timothy snapped, one hand smothering Angel's ear.

"Weird look!?" Jack spluttered, losing his words at his brother's ignorance. "They pulled me away from her, all because I didn't fit their profile of a fucking obedient Omega parent! I proved I was the father what the fucking fuck did they even - "

"Who's fault is that?! You got that brand ‘cause you wanted money to fund your idiotic Alpha dreams, not _once_ did you consider the life you were bringing into this world!"

If his brother had not been holding Angel then John's hands would be fast around his neck.

"Our parents raised you _so_ well, didn’t they?” He rasped, throat hoarse with rage. “That was no act in the fucking cell,was it?!  You were lapping it up, being in power and degrading me like I was worse than a shit stain on the pavement. You LOVED being one of them!"

"Everything I do is for the daughter you dumped on me, you useless fuck! You have no idea how -"

"Enough!" Nisha slammed her hand on the emergency stop button. "Dare I say I wished the damn cub was crying to drown you two out!"

John glanced down at Angel in Timothy's arms; she had gone awfully quiet, face burrowed into the crook of his neck.

"You said we have five minutes. it shouldn't be too hard to repay me with some goddamn peace and quiet!" The female Alpha bared her teeth and glared between them. "Good?"

Neither of them replied.

"I asked if we were good?" she snarled and both brothers shrank back against the wall. In the end Nisha was above both of them: even Tim accepted that unspoken arrangement and if there was one thing Alphas had problems with, it was not being on top of the ‘food chain’.

A quiet ‘yes’ escaped Timothy but John said nothing, clenching his jaw tighter.

"Then let's move it," she said and slammed the elevator button again so they could continue their accent.

* * *

They could only take what they could carry and that wasn't a lot. Angel wept as Timothy tried to explain why 'butt stallion' the unicorn had to stay behind.

Nisha wasn't great with kids, but she did her best as the two brothers ran around the apartment. Timothy pulled off the aircon paneling and retrieved his stash of cash and back up ID’s for such a case like this.

Nisha paced to his side, with Angel on her tail. She tapped furiously at her echo and didn’t look up as she spoke.

“I’ve got us a ride. We’re heading to one of the Eden’s moons. Not sure which one just yet.”

“What about Hyperion?” John came from the kitchen, beer in hand and not much else.

“What about it?” Timothy seethed and stashed the money and valuables into a backpack.

“I take the job, we become one of them. They can protect us.” John said simply.

“Like they’d give a shit about some new employee!” Timothy fired back and Angel started to cry again.

“We’ve lingered here too long. Let’s move.” Nisha kicked at Timothy’s ankles and scooped Angel up into her arms.

“Fine.” John spat, “but I still think we should see Hyper–”

Nisha drew a sharp breath and held Angel close. Timothy never got a chance to respond; he never saw the laser hovering over his chest, or the gunshot that fired, but he felt it. Pain surged up his shoulder and he howled in agony. Something heavy was on top of him, keeping him to the ground. He blinked back the pain and found John over him, holding him off the ground and dragging him behind the bed.

“FUCK!” Nisha cursed and clutched Angel with one hand, while the other drew her pistol.

Timothy tried to call to her, to Angel but the pain was too great. His head rolled to the side and his vision turned spotty. Someone was calling his name. It wasn’t Nisha – she had left his side and was hovering over the bed firing at the intruders – it was John.

“TIMMY!” Warm hands wrapped around his cheeks and pulled his head up.

John’s eyes were wide and panic was drawn across his face, twisting the brand into an ugly shape.

“You gotta get up!”

Timothy raised his hand and found it covered in blood. It fell uselessly at his side and something warm and sticky coated his chest.

“Timmy! Come on.” John wound his arms around him and tried to pull him up but stopped when Timothy kicked and cried out.

“Fuck, don’t move me!” He choked and pawed at his chest. “Fuck, fuck fuck.”

“You’ve been shot.” John’s voice became eerily calm. “Come on, you gotta get up, you gotta move.”

“Daddy?” Angel cried and Timothy blindly searched at the ground beside him, seeking her hand.

“You can do it.” John gently shook him but the spots in Timothy’s vision had almost consumed the room around them and his twin’s face. He was breathing heavily and every rise of his chest twisted the bullet inside him.

“Timmy?”

Timothy eyes rolled to the back of his head and his body fell limp.

“Timothy!”

The last thing he heard was his twin calling his name.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! yes I am alive, i kinda started another fic and it drew some of my attention but i'm still working on this and have loads more written. 
> 
> X don't forget to leave a comment if you enjoyed the fic! :D X 
> 
> Oh, and my new fic is [Second Best.](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18656233/chapters/44242819) It's a Jack clone au. 
> 
> Second Best Summary -  
> The warrior was summoned and set the world ablaze with a fire that never goes out. Jack has sent his men to secure the most vulnerable Hyperion facilities from its flames, there, in some long forgotten lab his team find something that should never have existed.
> 
> AU: Jack won, is bitter and old with no one but his long serving PA and a rogue clone for company.


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